


New Spark

by Miya_Morana



Series: Firelight [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Curtain Fic, Domestic, Gen, Peter/Isaac undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:10:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miya_Morana/pseuds/Miya_Morana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Frayed, Isaac goes live with Peter, who happens to be a very good cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morganoconner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/gifts).



> This is set in the same universe as Burning Embers but can be read on its own.  
> Big thanks to the lovely Akadougal for the beta.  
> I blame it all on Morgan. Also, This is for the curtainfic prompt on my [Trope Bingo card](http://miya-morana.livejournal.com/168700.html).

Isaac is sitting on Scott’s bed, shuffling through the songs on Scott’s ipod, trying to find one he can actually focus on. There’s no use, he can’t help himself, his ears stay tuned to the sound of Scott and his mom’s conversation downstairs.

“He beat that other kid bloody, Scott. For the second time,” Mrs McCall is saying.

“He never touched him at school. And Ethan’s not a kid, he’s an Alpha. He’s in part responsible for Derek’s death.”

“He’s unstable, Scott. I can see it in his eyes.”

“All the more reason for him to stay. He _needs_ me, Mom!”

“He scares me.”

The music in Isaac’s ear stops, and he looks down at the crushed ipod in his hand. Shit. He takes the earbuds out and throws the ipod on the bed, then gets up. It won’t take him long to grab his things and stuff them in a bag. It’s not as if he had much, anyways.

Downstairs, Scott is still trying to convince his mom that Isaac isn’t a threat, and he isn’t doing a bad job of it either, but the truth is, Isaac remembers how close he was to actually killing Allison the other day in that closet, and how much he lost himself when he started hitting Ethan. He can’t stay here. Maybe he could go back to that abandoned tramway station where Derek used to train them, or maybe–

The doorbell rings, and Scott falls silent. Even from upstairs Isaac can feel the tension rising in the air. He takes a deep breath, recognize the Peter’s scent. Slowly, Isaac makes his way downstairs, where he finds the older werewolf leaning against the doorway as Scott and Mrs McCall glare at him.

“What do you want?” Scott snaps.

“Nice to see you too, Scott,” Peter smiles. “Melissa. You look lovely.”

Isaac doesn’t miss the way Mrs McCall’s heart stutters, or how her scent is a confused mixed of anger, fear and something else. He’s not very good at smelling emotions yet. It’s something Derek meant to work on with him.

“You’re not welcome here,” Mrs McCall says.

“Then I won’t bother you for too long, you have my word,” Peter replies, then he looks up at Isaac. “Cora told me what Derek did. A bit late though. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m okay,” Isaac says, tensing up as Scott and his mom turn around to look at him, surprised. 

Peter raises an eyebrow, and Isaac averts his eyes. 

“I’m glad you found a place to stay,” Peter says, very slowly. “They came by his apartment, beat him and Cora up. That’s why he wanted you to leave. To protect you. I just thought you should know.”

Isaac looks back to Peter, barely noticing the suspicious look on Scott’s face. “Thanks.”

“Well, if everything here is fine, I’d hate to intrude,” Peter declares, pushing himself off the doorway. “Melissa, it was a pleasure seeing you again. Isaac, if you need anything…”

Isaac bites his lower lip as he watches Peter turn around, about to leave. His eyes dart to Mrs McCall, who’s clutching the baseball bat that usually leans against the wall. She’s even more fragile than Allison. If something were to happen here, and Scott wasn’t there to protect her…

“Actually,” he calls out just as Scott was about to shut the door. “I was wondering, do you have a free room or a couch I could crash on for a little while?”

“What?” Scott stares at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “Isaac!”

“You’re right, Mrs McCall,” Isaac continues, trying to ignore the look on Scott’s face. “I’m not exactly stable right now. You’ve been a wonderful host, and I don’t want to repay your kindness by putting you in danger.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to go live with _him_ ,” Scott yells, grabbing Isaac’s arm.

“Let him go,” Peter growls, low in his throat.

Scott turns around and glares at him. “Like you actually care.”

“Scott,” Isaac says, as calmly as he can. “It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t,” Scott snaps. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s a manipulative bastard who will betray you if it serves his interests.”

“He’s pack,” Isaac says. “And he’s strong enough that I don’t risk to hurt him. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry Isaac,” Mrs McCall says. “You’re a great kid, I swear. I just got a little bit scared, but it doesn’t mean…”

“No,” Isaac cuts in. “It’s alright. I’ll just grab my things.”

He runs back upstairs before anyone can say anything else, and when he comes back, Mrs McCall is threatening to riddle Peter with wolfsbane bullets if anything happens to him. Peter looks mostly amused, but he swears he’ll do his best to avoid her wrath. Then he touches Mrs McCall’s cheek and she flinches. Scott growls and Peter takes a step back, smirking.

There’s something here no one’s bothered to tell Isaac about. He’ll get it out of someone eventually though.

“Thanks for everything,” he says to Scott and his mom, then quickly hurries out the door.

***

There actually is a guest bedroom in Peter’s apartment, and Isaac is glad for it. He loves Scott, but sharing a room isn’t something he’s used to, being an only child, and he’ll appreciate having some privacy again, although the room itself is pretty…spartan. There’s a large bed, a closet and that’s it.

“This is great, thanks,” he tells Peter, throwing his bag on the bed.

“This isn’t great, it’s empty,” Peter counters. “We’ll get you some furniture this week-end.”

“Oh, that’s not… You don’t have to, really,” Isaac says, looking down at his feet. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Peter frowns. “You’re not. Now go do your homework - you’re in enough trouble at school as it is.”

“Seriously?” Isaac asks, then rolls his eyes when Peter keeps his serious face on. 

It reminds him of Derek, a little bit. Suddenly Isaac can feel the pain of his loss hit him again, and he takes a deep breath to try and keep it together. But Peter is already there, holding his arm and asking him what is going on, and he smells of pack and of concern and faintly of something Derek-like.

Isaac presses his forehead against Peter’s shoulder and just breathes for a while. Peter rubs his back in silence, and eventually Isaac straightens up.

“Sorry. I guess I miss him more than I thought.”

Peter nods, and lets him go to the living room, where Isaac settles on the couch to do his homework. Peter disappears in his own bedroom for a little while, then reemerges with a book. Isaac tries to ignore him as Peter sits in a comfortable-looking armchair and rests his feet (his shoeless, sockless, strangely long feet) on the coffee table.

It’s terribly distracting, as they rest just a few inches from his vocabulary list from Ms Morell’s class, and Peter’s toes keep moving, flexing, and Isaac’s mom used to tell him, a long time ago, that it’s not polite to put your feet on a table. Now Isaac can see why: because it’s indecent as hell and makes him want to poke at them. Which, yeah, no.

“What are you reading?” Isaac asks to prevent from telling off Peter on his manners in his own house, where Isaac is just a guest.

Peter lifts his head, then cocks it, looking at Isaac through squinted eyelids, as if evaluating him. Isaac belatedly realizes that he can perfectly well read the title from where he’s sitting: it’s Sun Tzu’s _The Art of War_.

When Isaac looks back from the book cover to Peter’s face, he can see the amusement there.

“Anything useful to us in there?” Isaac asks, refusing to blush.

“Not really,” Peter admits with a small smirk. He closes the book and puts it down on the table, _finally_ taking his feet off it. 

Isaac watches him walk to the open space kitchen and pull out things from the cupboards. He tries to concentrate back on his French lessons while the older werewolf chops an onion and peels an orange, of all things but when he brings out of the fridge what looks like a small chicken but doesn’t smell quite right, he’s intrigued.

Setting his homework down, Isaac walks up to the kitchen counter and watches Peter stuff the poultry with orange, onion and some leaves he doesn’t recognize. Peter puts the bird in the oven, and Isaac picks up one of the green leaves still laying on the counter as Peter starts cleaning up a little. He twirls it between his fingers.

“It smells nice,” he comments.

“Wait until it’s done and it’ll smell divine,” Peter snorts, then looks at him. “Oh, you were talking about the bay leaves.”

“Yeah,” Isaac smiles, putting it back down. “Isn’t it a little bit early to start making dinner though?”

“Duck takes a long time to cook,” Peter says, setting aside some onion and the rest of the oranges. “You’ve got plenty of time to finish your homework.”

“Ugh, I _hate_ French,” Isaac complains, but he does go back to it. 

When he’s done, he thinks about starting on his Chem assignment, but they still haven’t found a sub for Harris, so instead he searches his bag for his Math homework. But third degree equations are giving him a headache, so he just stops after ten minutes, pulls out a note block and starts doodling.

Peter is reading again, although he does get up at some point to check on the duck. Then, after about an hour and a half, he takes it out of the oven and starts doing things again. When Isaac joins him, Peter is pouring Cointreau (which by the smell seems to be an orange liqueur) onto fried onions.

“Make yourself useful and prepare a dressing for the salad,” Peter says as he adds orange juice and a little bit of water to the mix.

That’s one thing Isaac actually knows how to do, so he misses the final steps of the preparation as he makes a quick, simple salad dressing. When he’s done Peter is already carving the duck and serving it on two plates. Then he pours the orange sauce over it, and he was right, it does smell divine.

Peter lays the table quickly and efficiently. Isaac would have helped, but he has no idea where anything is, so just sits down and watches. Peter pours him a glass of red wine and Isaac raises an eyebrow.

“You know I’m underage, right?”

“Oh please, as if a werewolf could get drunk on a single glass of wine,” Peter replies with a smirk. “Or at all, for that matter. _Bon appétit_ , as they say.”

If Isaac had thought it smelled good, it was nothing compared to the taste. The sauce is both tart and sweet, and it compliments the duck to perfection. It’s probably the best dish Isaac has ever tasted in his entire life.

“Do you always cook like that?” he asks.

“Only when I have the time,” Peter smiles. “Or when I want to take it.”

“Careful, I could think you’re trying to seduce me with food,” Isaac jokes, and Peter raises an eyebrow.

“If I were, would it be working?” he asks seductively.

“Maybe a little,” Isaac grins cheekily, starting to feel more at ease around Peter.

“Only a little? Damn!” Peter grins. “I’ll have to work harder on that, then.”

Isaac laughs. He’s never sure if Peter is serious or joking, but he doesn’t think it really matters to him right now. He’s here, he’s safe for now, and even though his whole world is going to hell once again, he’s maybe found something here that he can cling to, something to keep him sane and alive. Who would have thought?

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone asks, [this](http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/duck_a_lorange_58409) is more or less the recipe Peter is following.


End file.
